Sold by Clarissa Wild

Harper

The door snaps closed, but my heart still thumps in my chest. And I still feel his breath on my skin even though he’s not even here anymore … and for some reason, a small trickle of disappointment seeps through my bones.

What the hell is wrong with me?

One minute, I’m smacking a customer on the head for touching me, and the next minute, some Mafioso storms into my hideout, totally overwhelming me.

And I let him.

I let him come close, despite knowing the risks. Despite instinctively knowing he’s a bad guy, I wanted him to touch me.

My skin sizzled when he tried to touch me. My body responded to every word he said, and it made me lower my defenses. Not that I think a tray would’ve protected me against a man like him. I swore I could see a gun sticking up from underneath his jacket.

He’s definitely someone I need to watch out for … and I don’t think this will be the last time we meet.

Marcello.

At first, I thought he was kidding when he told me his name, but now I can’t stop hearing him say it, and it makes goose bumps scatter on my skin.

When he saw me hit that guy in the face, I knew I was in trouble.

I wonder why he chose to follow me and what he planned to do if he had his way with me. A part of me wishes he didn’t just leave out of nowhere like he had some place to be, but that’s foolish to even consider. He’s not some ordinary guy, that’s for sure.

I’ve never felt this way around any man. Like I was out of breath, wanting to gasp, my body shaking with need as he inched closer and closer until I wanted to close my eyes and be swept away by him.

I lost myself in the moment—and I cannot allow it to happen again.

He’s one of them—the men from the PI’s document. I’m sure of it.

The investigator was right. These are some very bad men, and I’m in too deep already. I gulp and take in a deep breath to calm my nerves, but nothing helps. Something’s not right. After he mentioned those Irishmen, his eyes flickered with a fervor I’d never seen. He went from a hunter pouncing down on his prey to looking pissed off and stalking out of here in mere seconds.

For a mafia guy to do that must mean some bad shit is about to go down.

And now I’m going to be a part of it.

I have to get out of this club.

With the tray still in my hand, I march to the door. Right then, a loud bang makes me jump back.

What the … gunshots?!

“Dellucci! Show yourself!” a loud voice yells from inside the club.

Another bang follows, and I lower myself to the floor, huddled behind the door.

“DELLUCCI!” another one yells. “Time’s up!”

Suddenly, loud bangs are all around me. The club is being hit right now, and I’m fucking right beside the fire. My heart beats out of my chest as fear ripples through me.

Fuck!

What the hell is happening?

Panic flows through my veins as the other girls scream from inside the club. Are they dragging them away? Or worse? And what kind of dirty plans do they have?

Just the thought makes my heart almost thud right out of my chest.

Oh my god, I need to get out of here or hide.

What do I do? Open the door and run for my life or hide? No, this place has no other exit that I know of. If they find me here, they could kill me in an instant. I’m just a sitting duck here waiting to be slaughtered. I have to move.

With my tray covering my chest to protect myself, I open the door slowly and peek through. Men are standing near the entrance to block people from running out while bullets fly. Scattered across the floor are customers and waitresses, blood seeping from their bodies.

Jesus, it’s a fucking massacre.

And there are so many armed men, there’s no way I’m going to get out unseen.

I search for my phone, but I can’t find it.

Fuck. It just hit me. I left it in the locker room. I want to slap myself for being so stupid, but it won’t help me now.

Okay, think of something else.I look around to see if there’s another exit even though Mafia guys are everywhere. They’re still shooting, and bullets ricochet off the walls and tables right next to me. But I have to move. It’s that or I’ll have to die trying.

Glancing to my right, I spot the back exit. It’s my only shot.

Holding up the tray to protect my face, I lower myself to the floor and crawl toward the exit, hoping no one will see me. I stick close to the wall. I’m almost there. I’m so fucking close …

And then a hand grips my shirt from behind, pulling me up by my neck.

I scream, but the sound is blocked by the shirt wrapped tightly around my neck, choking me. I claw at the arm slithering around my skin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a bulky, muscular man with a thick Russian accent says.

I’m coughing and gasping for air as I hiss, “Let me go.”

He smiles viciously and lifts me in the air like I’m a rag doll to play with. I throw a fist, left and right, but none of them affects him in the slightest. Not even a kick to the dick makes him flinch. This guy is made of stone. All these years of self-defense have been rendered me useless, and I’ve never felt more powerless than I do now.

“Boss, I’ve got a feisty one over here …” he growls, still looking at me like I’m a special prize he won.

I keep stomping at him, giving it my all to free myself. I won’t stop. I can’t. I have to live so I can find that guy … Marcello. Right now, he’s the only link to my parents’ murder, and I’m not about to die before I have a chance to avenge their deaths.

Some of the attackers are still shooting at people lying on the floor to make sure they’re actually dead, and it terrifies me … because the man holding me in a firm grip right this very second has a gun in his other hand, and it’s pointed straight at my head.

What if this is my last breath?

Oh god.

No!

No, I can’t think like that. I have to keep calm and figure out a way to get out of this mess.

“Don’t fucking move,” the scary guy growls, “unless you want me to pull the trigger and paint the walls with your pretty brains.”

“Don’t, please,” I squeak. It’s pathetic, but I have no choice. If begging will get me out alive, it’s worth a try. Right now, my pride doesn’t matter.

He licks his filthy lips and yanks me tight against his body. “You’re a pretty one. I think I’ll keep you for myself.”

Fuck that. Disgusting pig.

I spit in his face, and growl, “Fuck you.”

For a moment, he lets go of me but before I can move another muscle, he slaps me so hard I feel dizzy. He throws me onto the ground, facedown on the floor, and the force knocks all the air out of my lungs. I groan in pain as I try to scramble to my feet, but he pins me down on the floor.

“No one spits in my face, not even a pretty girl like you,” he says, leaning in to whisper into my ear. “I think I need to teach you a lesson on how to behave. You want it rough? You got it.”

Shit, my fighting is only turning the fucker on.

He licks my earlobe and my cheek, leaving a disgusting trail that makes me want to hurl. His dirty hands are all over me, and I let out a frightened shriek as he rips down my panties right from underneath the skirt. I punch and kick and reach for the tray that’s fallen next to me, but to no avail. He’s pinned down my wrists as he sits down on top of my back. A belt buckle clicks as he undoes it, and tears well up in my eyes.

This isn’t happening. Please tell me this isn’t happening.

“Andrei! Get off. Don’t damage the fucking goods.”

Before I know it, the guy is lifted off me, and I can finally breathe again. But it’s only for a few seconds because then I’m flipped over, and a nasty-looking guy with a beard is glaring right at me.

“This is a pretty one,” the guy says.

“I said the same thing,” Andrei replies.

The new man smacks Andrei hard in the face. I can’t say it doesn’t feel good to watch him get punished for what he wanted to do to me. “I told you not to take any spoils for yourself. How many times do I have to explain to you why we’re here?”

Andrei cocks his head. “I was only inspecting the merchandise.” He raises his hands as though he’s innocent, but I know what he was about to do. “Nothing more.”

Liar. He was about to do something despicable to me, and he knows it.

The other guy narrows his eyes at Andrei, and his nostrils flare. “Bring her to the van with the others.”

The van? Shit. I don’t like the sound of that. Like this fucking night hasn’t been bad enough, and now I’m going to be kidnapped?

I try to crawl away, toward one of the dead bodies lying all around me—because this one has a gun in his hands … and I’m about to use it to defend myself.

“Oh, no, fuck no!” Andrei growls, and he grabs me by the neck again and lifts me.

“Let go of me, you pig!” I yell.

He snorts and grabs something from his pocket, twisting me around in an awkward position. Then he yanks my arms behind my back and shackles me.

“What the fuck?!” I scream. “Get off me!” I try to shake him off, but he still puts his hands on my waist and throws me over his shoulder.

“How about you shut the fuck up and be a good girl?” he sneers, and then he marches out the front door with me hanging over his shoulder. I keep kicking with everything I have, but it doesn’t even faze him.

There’s a van waiting right in front, and my eyes widen as the doors slide open. Almost all of the strippers from the club are there—some of them badly bruised, some bleeding or unconscious.

And lying bound like pigs on the floor of the vehicle…

Are the two Irishmen.

Fuck.

I swallow hard. What are they gonna do with us?

Andrei throws me in with the rest of the girls. “Be quiet, and you won’t get hurt.” As he grabs the door, he grins and adds, “Not badly, anyway.”

I spit at him again, but it lands on the door instead because he slams it before my spit gets close.

Fuck that monster. Him and all his hideous friends.

Of course, there’d be Russians like the cherry on top of this shit sundae I’ve found myself in. No wonder that PI wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole and ran for the hills. I’ve never seen this kind of violence, and now that the doors are closed, and I’m left with the other whimpering women, it finally dawns on me.

I don’t think I’ll get out of this mess so easily.

Fuck, I’m in deep shit.